


Tick Tock

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: #freedream, #savedreamsclock, Canon Elements, Dream In Prison, Dream SMP Lore, Dream Smp, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lore - Freeform, dream is going through it, dsmp! dream, he's swimming in lava, predictions? kind of filler, probably a one shot ??, someone free him wtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29275551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: dream wakes up in prison
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	Tick Tock

The ticking was so loud.

Dream’s eyes fluttered open, vision swimming as his head pounded. His stomach panged with hunger. A drop of sweat made its way down his forehead. 

The ticking was SO loud.

He got up from where he was curled on the ground, the burns on his hands scraping against the warm, lacquered obsidian as he stumbled from nausea. Pushing down bile, instead trying to focus on the clock that was slowly traveling back and forth across the wall in front of him.

So _loud_.

He steadied himself on the wall, hands on either side of it, vision still unfocused, then grabbed it. Its hand moved mockingly slow.

_Forever isn’t that bad, right?_

So damn LOUD.

He squeezed his eyes shut, then shoved it with way more force than necessary through the wall. Then again, and again, and again, until the clock was a twisted mess of glass and metallic gold, until its redstone components had mixed with the blood from the mangled skin of his knuckles, until there were messy smears across the wall and his filthy, once white shirt.

The obsidian burned his split knuckles. The wall of lava, somewhere behind him, beckoned with a whispered hiss and gentle pop. His hand swiped roughly across his cheeks, salt burning the cuts. His chest heaved. _Breathe_.

Tick tock.

His eyes flashed open, darting around the room in a growing panic. Desperation clawed at his throat. _When did it get so small?_

Tick tock.

He fell to his knees, leftover glass bits cutting into his palms and legs. Digging his hands against his ears, screaming until his throat was raw in an attempt to drown it out.

Tick tock.

He let out a half sob, mumbling something slurred, incoherent. His throat felt ragged. 

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

Somehow he made it back up, tripping over his own feet as the room spun. Stumbled over to the glowing curtain of lava, releasing his desperate grip over his ears and reaching out to the waves of orange, hands shaking violently as he pleaded for something unintelligible under his breath.

He welcomed the burn. It grounded him, the familiar pain blinding him. The sudden rush in his ears overtook the ticking and he smiled widely, squeezing his eyes shut. If he tried hard enough he could almost pretend he was simply in the Nether, or sitting too close to an Overworld campfire with his friends.

The globs of golden orange gently cupped his scarred hands and he blearily watched his fingers unfurl and flex around it.

Eventually he stumbled out, pathetically crawling over to his little watering hole and collapsing in it as a hiss filled the tiny room, steam rising from his skin and clothes.

He lay like that for a while, sopping wet hair drying quickly in the overheated room. The water droplets bounced on the obsidian before slowly sinking into it, the purple gleaming. He watched it happen with blurry eyes, barely awake from sheer exhaustion and weakness, drifting away slowly. Finally. 

Tick tock.

His eyes flew open.


End file.
